


confessions

by owlsshadows



Series: ushiten week [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Ushiten Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 00:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20751059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlsshadows/pseuds/owlsshadows
Summary: Wakatoshi would make a perfect superhero, Satori ponders. He is strong and has that chiseled jawline every superhero has in Satori’s mangas. Wakatoshi is also serious, righteous, and unbiased. On the other hand, Wakatoshi might be the worst superhero. He is honest to a fault; his blunt words and general unwilling to keep secrets from anyone would seriously make it impossible to keep his identity a secret.In which Satori witnesses a confession.





	confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ushiten Week Day 1: confessions
> 
> I would like to dedicate this to Nana as I got to know that her birthday is today too late to write something from scratch but knowing that it's her birthday made me finish this in time... if that makes sense~
> 
> Also, just a note, my laptop is not doing really well so I wrote this on my phone. I had it grammar checked, but if some typoes still remained, sorry^^"

The January wind blows cruelly cold and forceful through the alleyway connecting the third-year building with the cafeteria. Satori pulls his jacket together shivering, hopping in front of the vending machine that swallowed his coins without ever delivering the promised wonder of a hot calpis. Semisemi -- hating the drink with fervent devotion -- would definitely say he deserves it and Hayato would say it was a hundred yen wasted anyways; even Jin would shake his head in disappointment. The only person who may understand his loss is Reon, but even he would question Satori’s taste.

As for Wakatoshi… Wakatoshi is a strange child. He has no judgment for Satori's eccentric tastes; he helps, simply because Satori wants that drink. Last week, for example, when the exact same thing happened -- for the umpteenth time, which makes Satori wonder why he still keeps feeding this machine money -- Wakatoshi walked him back to the machine, and shook it so easily as if it was made out of cardboard, with strength unbelievable for an 18-year-old to possess.

Really. He should just ask Wakatoshi.

Satori has nothing to lose -- his last 100-yen having been already swallowed by the machine -- but everything to win; be it his money or his drink, he will get something out of it, on top of being able to spend some extra time with Wakatoshi.

An invisible hand reaches out to tickle his insides, and he feels kind of giddy as he turns away from the vending machine, starting for the third years' building, jumping and skipping to fight the cold.

Wakatoshi would make a perfect superhero, Satori ponders. He is strong and has that chiseled jawline every superhero has in Satori’s mangas. Wakatoshi is also serious, righteous, and unbiased. He always helps out his friends -- and on rare occasions, even his opponents -- without question.

On the other hand, Wakatoshi might be the worst superhero. Way too serious. Not even a spec of sense of humor in sight. He is honest to a fault; his blunt words and general unwilling to keep secrets from anyone would seriously make it impossible to keep his identity a secret.

Satori almost reaches the building when a high-pitched shriek tears into the crisp air.

“I like you, Ushijima-senpai! Please go out with me!”

Curiosity overcomes Satori as he ducks down to hide behind the corner of the school building, peeking out towards the backyard.

There stands a girl, based on her looks probably a first-year, all soft, pretty and cute with her cheeks flushed bright red and her big round eyes trained hopefully on Wakatoshi.

Satori can't see Wakatoshi's face from this angle, but he sees the changes in his posture, and he had learned to read him long ago. First, Wakatoshi is surprised, shoulders squaring up stiffly. Then, he seems to stifle a sigh, his broad back folding in on itself a little.

“I'm sorry,” he says.

“Why? Am I not pretty enough?” the girl presses.

“It’s not about whether you are pretty or not. I already have someone I like.”

Turns out, the invisible hand’s fingers end in claws, for its tickle turns sour and it mars into Satori.

He feels bad for the girl who runs past him towards the cafeteria, trying to fight back tears.

He feels bad for Wakatoshi, too; he may be blunt and straightforward, but he is not without emotion, and causing pain to someone must hurt him too.

Most of all, Satori feels sorry for himself, though.

With how Wakatoshi is, there is no doubt he said the truth.

He has someone he likes.

*

_ The thing is _ , Satori realizes, lying on his stomach on Wakatoshi’s bed and turning the pages in his Shounen Jump without any of the story registering in his brain,  _ he has nothing to lose. _

He won’t hate him for asking. It’s Wakatoshi after all. 

“Say, Wakatoshi-kun~”

“Hn?” Wakatoshi hums, looking up from Satori’s modern history notes he borrowed for the finals.

“This afternoon behind the school building, you were confessed to…”

“You saw that?”

“Yeah, you know, passing by…”

“I see,” Wakatoshi says. His eyes pierce through Satori, that strange, unfathomable shade of greenish-brown that always reminds Satori of a sandy beach after a wave washed over it shining warmly in the lights of the room, before Wakatoshi closes his lids, bowing shortly. “I’m sorry you had to witness it.”

“No worries!” Satori replies, pushing him upwards on his elbows. “Rather, I’m the one feeling sorry for you, it must be hard to reject someone…”

“It’s not the easiest,” Wakatoshi agrees, his gaze falling back on Satori.

For a second, silence finds them. Suddenly the smallest of noises, such as the low humming of the desk lamp, seems harsh and loud. Satori could bet on it that if he listened well, Wakatoshi could hear the crazy drumming of his heart. 

“Say~” He bites his lower lip. “You told that girl that you have someone you like. Who is it? Do I know him?”

“As much as anyone can know themselves.”

“Wha-- wait, don’t speak in riddles, I’m afraid I might misinterpret your words. Being a hopeful idiot, that is…”

“The one I like is you, Tendou,” Wakatoshi replies then, turning with his chair towards the bed, “and my affection is not purely platonic.” His gaze drops down Satori’s face, lingers over his lips before they return to his eyes. “I never told you as I never planned to act on it, but since you overheard… I think you deserve to know.”

“Haa.” Satori could’ve found better words. There certainly exist better words somewhere in this universe, floating around side by side with his brain in an infinite void. But right now, in Wakatoshi’s room, Satori is left speechless, and he buries his face in the bedsheet in an attempt to hide his blush. The sheet is smelling of Wakatoshi.

“I can understand if you find it unwanted,” Wakatoshi, unaware of Satori’s condition, continues. “I don’t want you to treat this as a confession of any kind, and I’m not waiting for an answer either…”

“Me too!” Satori grumbles into the pillow, pulling the sheets over his head in embarrassment. “I like you too, the feeling is mutual.”

“Is that so?” Wakatoshi asks. “But you seem to be in pain…”

“I could die!” Satori replies, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “From happiness. And surprise. And relief. And so many other things that we may not want to discuss right away, but… just… act on it,” he says, finally looking Wakatoshi in the eye. “Please and thank you.”

Wakatoshi blinks, taken aback for a moment, then, as if he was tasked to spike an important ball in a match, his face turns into one of extreme focus and he leans down from his chair to plant a kiss on Satori’s forehead.


End file.
